Myrkr
by kisshimyoudumbelf
Summary: The sequel to Inheritance! I'm new at this, so please bear with me. It has been five years since Eragon left Alagaesia, and trouble is brewing back home. What new troubles face the inheritance crew? Find out! Rated T for violence and minor suggestive themes.
1. Darkness Encloses

**Well hey there! Are you ready for the ground shaking, mind blowing sequel series to Inheritance?**

**Well then, you'll have to look somewhere else.**

**(Maybe. We'll see where this goes.)**

**Anyways, I decided to write a sequel to Inheritance. This is my first long term fan fiction, so please bear with me. (By the way, Myrkr means, "darkness" in old norse, which was the baseline that Christopher Paolini used for the ancient language.)**

**Are you ready? Then come along with me, on a journey through time…**

Prologue

Darkness. Quiet. Stillness.

The darkness of the night enveloped all with its overpowering force. None could withstand it, and none could hide from it, for darkness is everywhere. The force of the night succumbs to nothing, and answers to no master.

The small caravan trudged slowly onward, their horses tired from the long haul yet ever still did the voice of their riders tell them to "Keep going," accompanied by a gentle yet meaningful lash with their thin switches. The horses neighed, aware of the impending doom, as all animals are aware of when their time has come; but their human riders, who were not born with such foresight, pushed them forward still. To them, the night seemed calm. Tranquil. Peaceful, even…

How wrong they were.

Off in the night, the single hoot of an owl broke the silence of darkness.

Silence. The blanket of it soon returns, and the humble farmers, set on edge by the inconspicuous bird, returned their eyes to the road, reassuring themselves that, "It's just an owl."

Then chaos broke free from its chains.

The carts of the caravan burst into flames. The horses went into a craze, and they bolted, taking the farmers on the ride of their lives. Arrows fired upon the caravan found their targets, and the horses fell, and the wagons and carts flipped over their dead bodies. The farmers, no knowing what to do, fled into the darkness of the trees, but could not escape the inevitable. More arrows flew, and more fell.

A lone farmer survived the latest volley, and realizing that he was alone, hid in a hollow beneath the roots of an ancient tree.

Silence. Then, off in the distance, footsteps. Getting closer, ever closer, they treaded softly, as softly as a hunter who is tracking his prey.

The farmer prayed fervently to his gods, fearing the inevitable. He waited, and the footsteps gre ever closer. He saw a shiver of movement, and a figure entered his view. Slim and graceful, the form picked its way towards his hollow. The farmer went stalk still, hoping he would be missed. The form stopped, and looked towards his hollow, and the farmer felt its gaze penetrate the roots, stabbing into his back like white hot daggers. He held his breath.

The form turned then, and walked away. Slowly, the silent shadow crept away, never to trouble the farmer again.

**Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, as this is only the prologue. Please, leave a review, and tell me what you think!**

**(Just so that no one says I don't give due credit where credit is due, I'd like to thank hopelessromantic1470 for inspiring me. You are a great writer; continue to do what you do best: inspire others.)**


	2. Visions of Darkness

**Alright, I'm back with the first official chapter of Myrkr (the first "chapter" was the prologue). Thanks for reviewing, and I'm glad I caught some of you reader's interests. Hope I live up to your expectations!**

**(To answer one of the questions in the reviews, it has been five years since Eragon left Alagaësia.)**

**Enjoy!**

Eragon leaned over the rail, surveying the cold landscape. The island was alive and beautiful, with the few mountains that were on the island to his right, and the beach, along with the familiar sound of the push and pull of the ocean, to his left. The landscape was in full bloom, with a variety of colors, ranging from bright reds and greens to deep blacks and blues. The wildlife of the island, the majority of it peaceful, ranged freely across the landscape, nibbling at the grass and sniffing the flowers. Yet despite all this beauty, Eragon still felt tense. As if something would snap and his whole world would be thrown into a storm of chaos and misery.

They had arrived at the island five years ago, after days of sailing across the ocean, weary and needing rest. Even the strength of the Eldunarí had been sapped from keeping the boat on a straight and steady course, even during storms. They had trundled onto the beach and set up a temporary camp, and waited out the night until morning. When it came, they felt they were strong enough to start their work. Using magic, Eragon, the elves, the Eldunarí, and even Saphira laid the foundations of their fortress, and began to draw the elements they needed from the ground. They continued for what seemed like hours, constantly chanting in the ancient language until their fort was complete. It was made of stone as hard as iron, and was very large (on account of the dragons) with many rooms for future riders. It was simple, yet for then it would suffice.

After that, the Eldunarí ceased their enchantment on the eggs of the dragons. And once they had unpacked the ship and moved into their fort, they waited.

And waited.

Until finally, the moment arrived when one of them hatched. He was a wild dragon, as they had hoped for. He was dark green in color, like the needles of pine trees, and grew rapidly, as if growing would prove his worth. His name was Shalva, and he knew no master. A few months after his hatching, he flew off, only to return a week later having almost grown a full foot.

Several others hatched, such as Vermün and Saeften. Some chose their own unique names, and some chose to name themselves after dragons past. And then, one by one, they left the fortress to go and choose spots to build their homes. They knew they were always welcome back, but few visited.

Eragon stared into the dark, looking for any telltale signs of dragons or their nests, but dragons are not so easily spotted, so he stepped away from the rail and walked back inside. He passed a few elves, who nodded his direction, and he respectfully nodded back. They were probably off on their own way doing their own things, so he did not bother them with idle conversation.

After he made it to his room and closed the door, he locked it and sat heavily on the cushioned wooden chair, troubled. He started to slip into his waking dreams, but unintentionally stopped himself. He had been having a recurring dream, and it disturbed him. Worried, he decided to contact Ilirea and make sure that nothing had happened.

He moved over to the mirror that stood in his room and muttered a few words in the ancient language. The surface of the mirror suddenly swirled inky black, and then a room filled his vision. Eragon saw elaborate tables and chairs, and in the center was a high backed chair in which sat Nasuada. She was taller than she was the last time he had seen her. Her hair had gone longer as well, and yet she seemed just a little more haggard; probably from being queen for five years.

She was facing away from him, listening to the voice of a person he didn't recognize continued, both of them unaware of his presence.

"… caravan of farmers was attacked on the road again. Like last time, the carts were burned and the horses slaughtered. However, this time one survived…"

Eragon cleared his throat. The voice stopped, and Nasuada looked over in his direction. Seeing him, her face brightened, and she shooed the speaker off, stood up, and walked towards the mirror. She sat down on a chair in front of it, and soon a door banged.

"Hello, Eragon," she said.

"Lady Nasuada," Eragon replied. "What was that about?"

"Oh nothing, just a few rogue magicians who robbed a couple of caravans. We're working on it right now, but they're covering their tracks well."

"Oh." Eragon fidgeted for a second, then said sheepishly, "How is Arya?"

Nasuada cocked her head, smirking. "Why not ask her yourself?"

Eragon stared at his boots, his face turning a deep shade of red. "Well… she's been busy for the past few weeks."

"So I noticed… But the reason you're contacting me isn't to exchange idle chat, is it?"

Eragon looked up, seriousness entering his face. "No. I just was checking up, making sure that everything was fine around Ilirea."

Nasuada looked at him with a curious glance. "Everything's fine. There was a minor skirmish between the guards and a drunken man, but that's the most excitement in the past few weeks… is everything alright?"

Eragon hesitated. "Yes, everything is fine.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

They talked for a little while longer, talking about price cuts in the market back in Alagaësia and how the dragons are doing on the island. Eventually a lull arrived in their conversation, and Eragon, seeing that Nasuada needed sleep, bid her goodnight. The mirror went murky black, and then it returned to its normal reflective surface.

Eragon sat back, exhausted and worried. _If the problems I saw in Ilirea haven't happened yet, does that mean that they might?_

While he was thinking, despite himself, he drifted off…

_And found himself hanging in midair, watching as a strange dust cloud rose near Ilirea. Automatically he recognized this dream as the dream that had worried him so. Curious as to what was causing the dust cloud, he zoomed downward- not entirely sure how, but so he did- to investigate. As he penetrated the cloud, he saw what seemed to be an army of considerable size marching towards the capital, except this army wore no armor or shielding. They simply wore black robes, with their hoods up so that none could see their faces. The defenders on the walls of Ilirea looked grim, tired, and, for some reason, fearful._

_ As he watched, two dragons soared up from behind the walls, one red and on green. They roared ferociously, and fire spewed from their mouths as the soared towards the army. The army did not scatter, nor swerve, but kept walking towards the city, with swords drawn. And then the dragons and the army clashed, and for hours on end they fought. The army somehow stood against the dragons, and while the dragons killed many, the army fought ferociously. More hours passed, and the dragons- and apparently, their Riders, for there on the dragon's backs they sat- grew tired, and their fighting less of a threat to the army, who still stood tall and fought proud._

_ However, at just the point when it seemed the Rider's would fall, a sound came._

_ It was the sound of thunder._

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! (by the way, I struggled with the dialogue section, any suggestions as to how it could be improved would be welcomed.) And any other suggestions would be welcome as well, such as spelling errors or confusion or just plain reviews on how I did. I hope I lived up to the expectations I raised with my prologue! Thanks for reading!**


	3. Riders and Swords

**Ok, so I have to admit, I'm writing this second chapter right after the first, and I'm not entirely sure as to what this chapter will be about. I have a few ideas floating around in my head, but none entirely concrete. We'll see where this goes.**

**As to the words of the Ancient language I've been using, I forgot to mention that some of these are mentioned in earlier boos, but if there is a word I need to use that is ****_not_**** in the other books, I get it from the Old Norse language, which was the baseline for the ancient language Christopher Paolini used.**

**Disclaimer (realized I haven't put one of these up here yet… I should do that): I do not own the inheritance series, it is owned by Christopher Paolini, blah di blah blah blah**

Kvikhlan ducked sideways slash that Lisa threw at his head, and followed up with an underhanded swing of his own weapon. Lisa blocked it with her shield and twirled around Kvikhlan's guard and tapped him on the back of his neck with her sword. Kvikhlan swung around, but found only Lisa's sword pressed against his neck.

The two pupil's stepped back and sheathed their weapons, her plain steel sword and his grey Rider's sword. Bowing, they turned to Eragon and the other students, who, all save Eragon, watched with unguarded excitement.

"Well done, Lisa and Kvikhlan. You fought well. I wouldn't worry about your loss, Kvikhlan," he said, turning to the dwarf. "In the few weeks that she has been here Lisa has bested every single one of the other students. I wonder as to where she attained this skill," Eragon remarked, giving a glance of curiosity in the human student's direction, "But it does not matter. It is mid-noon now, and you both are tired. Head to the break room for your meal, and then all of you will walk to the flight deck, where Saphira and I will teach you about fighting on dragon back. You are dismissed."

The students began to pick up their gear and leave, when Eragon motioned to Lisa and said, "Lisa, please stay. I want to talk to you for a moment."

Lisa, the latest human Rider, had long brown hair and grey eyes, and was just about as tall as Eragon. She approached, and when she stood before him, he said, "Lisa, you have surpassed all of my peoples, all of which have been here longer than you. While how you attained this skill is not my business, I believe that now you feel held back because none here are at your level of skill, correct?"

Lisa nodded, and said, "I came a long way from Alagaësia to be here, and somehow found that not even the newly formed Riders could match me," she said, laughing at the irony.

Eragon hesitated for a moment, and said, "Be careful not to become boastful and proud of your ability, Lisa. While it is not wrong to _be_ better than the other students, pride is one of life's greatest stumbling blocks. It is what caused the fall of Galbatorix, his dragon, and many of the Forsworn."

Lisa lowered her gaze. Lisa blanched a little, but soon her composure regained itself, and she nodded. "Yes, Elbrithil."

Eragon nodded, and said, "Good. But this is not why I have called you here. I asked you here because I have decided, as I have for every other of my pupils at different times, that you're weapon is to be… upgraded, in a sense."

Lisa nodded, and then drew her weapon and held it out to Eragon.

Eragon shook his head. "No, you will not use that weapon from now on. The reason I had you spar in front of the class today was not to show your skill to the others, but as sort of an initiation sequence. Your dragon, Evarínya, went through the same thing today as well. Come with me."

Eragon walked to the back of the room and, speaking too softly for Lisa to hear, he said, "Mor'amr, Salr abr du Sverdar." Open, Hall of the Swords.

After he spoke, a section of the wall disappeared, and Eragon walked through. After a moment's hesitation, his pupil followed suit.

The room was dark, and nothing could be seen. Quickly Eragon muttered, "Garjzla!" and the room lit up.

Lisa gasped.

The room was a long hall, filled with row upon row of Rider's swords of every color. The end of the hall was about a mile or two away, and yet the swords filled every foot of the walls of the Hall. Losing herself for a moment, Lisa walked to the right wall and traced her finger over the blade of one of the swords, a deep red blade, and whispered, "So many…"

Eragon nodded. "We found these in the halls of Galbatorix, after he was defeated. Come," he said, and walked forward to a pedestal a few meters away. Curious, Lisa followed, and stood on the pedestal with him.

Eragon shouted, "Taune hvitr sverdar!" and far down in the hall, every single white bladed sword came rushing forward, a good fifty blade's or so, and floated a few feet before them. Eragon turned to Lisa and said, "I have seen you fight, and from observing I have seen that you use the back of your blade just as much you do the front, and I have also observed that you rely on the guard of the sword to block your opponents' blade. I have also noticed that you often use both hands when striking and stabbing, though your sword is not quite suited for such things. From this I have gathered that you need a hand and a half sword with a two-edged blade and a wide cross-guard." He motioned at a blade near the ceiling of the hall and said, "Koma," and the sword floated downwards to float in front of Eragon and Lisa.

The sword was long bladed and pure white, as was the color of Lisa's dragon, and was thin. Its white diamond, which was its pommel stone, shone like an orb of light, and on the sheath of the blade a single glyph was inscribed.

"Take it," Eragon said. Lisa reached out in front of her and grasped the blade. "While it was with great reluctance that I chose this blade for you, I decided that it was you who should wield it, as I could think of no better one. I gift this to you, Lisa. This was once the blade of an elf, long ago, long before even the time of Vrael. This sword's name is Fyrstr. Lisa. Do you know whose sword this was?"

Lisa's face was blank, and then as realization dawned upon her, her face looked awestruck. "This is the sword of your namesake, Eragon, the first Rider, and whose dragon was Bid'Daum!"

"Yes. This sword is also the very first blade ever forged by Rhunön, the great elf sword smith, which, along with the fact that it was wielded by the first Rider, is why it was named, 'first.' How Galbatorix came upon this blade is unknown to me, and the very fact that it survived all these years is astounding. I give this sword to you because I trust that you will do everything to keep this sword safe. Can I trust you to do so?"

Eagerness crossed Lisa's face as she said, "Yes, certainly!"

"Very well. Fyrstr is now yours. Guard it well."

Then Eragon muttered a word and all the swords suspended in midair flew back to their spots on the walls, after which Eragon stepped off the pedestal when Lisa said, "Elbrithil?"

Eragon stopped and turned. "Yes?"

"Why give me this sword? Why not some other student someday who will ride a white dragon, or simply give me a sword of similar build that was a different color, as I know that the colors of blades can be changed?"

Eragon thought for a moment, and then smiled. "I do not know exactly why. I simply have the feeling that this sword is to be yours. While others may question my judgment, I believe I have made the right choice."

Lisa nodded. "What makes you feel that way?"

"Nothing that would be understandable to anyone but humans. That is, a gut feeling."

Lisa held back a smile. She bowed, saying, "Thank you, Elbrithil."

Eragon nodded, and walked out of the room. Lisa followed, and then Eragon shut the door upon the Hall of the Swords, wondering as to what his pupil's future would be.

**Well, I'm happy with that chapter. 1,449 words! YAY! But what did you think? After all, that's what the review button is for! (hint hint)**


	4. Knowing Others

**Alright, I'm getting into the general flow now. I already had a plot lined up, but wasn't sure as to where I would go with each chapter. But I think I have the idea now… maybe. We'll see :D (I have lots of maybe's, don't I?) Well, Enjoy!**

**(By the way, in response to a review, the reason I had Eragon choose Lisa's sword and not have her own forged was that the Riders are outside of Alagaësia now, and there is not Rhunön to forge the swords. And since there were rider's swords discovered, I decided to just give Lisa one of those.)**

Lisa was walking through the halls of the fort, heading over to the mess hall, when her dragon, Evarínya, contacted her.

_Come quickly_, she said, _for I sense they will start a fight._ Confused, she asked her more, but she would only say that they were in the mess hall.

Lisa quickened her pace, wondering what the other students were up to. When she came to the door of the mess hall, she hesitated, took a deep breath, and then pulled open the doors.

Havoc had broken free in the far corner of the hall. It appeared that Alden, the other human student under Eragon, and one of the elves were attempting to keep Kvikhlan and the Urgal pupil, Narbog, from tearing each other apart. Alden struggled to pull Kvikhlan away from Narbog, who was being restrained magically by the elf. He thought her name was Invidia, but she wasn't sure; not that it mattered.

Lisa noticed how Alden struggled, so she decided to help him. Recalling her training, she closed her eyes and felt around the recesses of her mind for the pocket that held the energy she used for magic. Breaking through the barrier, she gathered herself, found the words she needed, and shouted, "Hrinda Kvikhlan brott!" Push Kvikhlan away.

Kvikhlan flew a few meters away from Alden (who ducked to the floor when he heard the spell) and landed on one of the wooden tables, where he automatically sat up, but then Lisa, since moving an object required little energy and had enough left for another spell, shouted, "Sitja par!" Stay there.

Kvikhlan stopped moving only for a moment, and then began struggling against her magic. Lisa's strength waned for a moment, but then another consciousness joined hers- she assumed it was Evarínya's- and added their strength to hers. A great amount of energy poured into Lisa, and with it she easily subdued Kvikhlan. With a flare in Lisa's direction, he stopped fighting and just stayed there, motionless.

_Thank you, Evarínya- _she started to mentally say, but then she found that the consciousness was not that of her dragon, as it was a male dragon. Confused, she thought for a moment, striving to recognize the consciousness, for she knew who it was but had only forgotten. Then she realized that it was not her dragon but Kvikhlan's dragon, Felkthar. _Thank you, Felkthar. Tell me, what were they fighting about this time?_

_ My rider attacked the Urgal,_ the dragon said, _because Narbog said that the Urgals that attacked Tronjheim and killed his father were under the control of Galbatorix and the shade Durza._

_ Thank you, _she said, and withdrew her consciousness from his and released the spell, as suddenly Eragon walked through the door.

Looking around, he said, 'What is going on here?"

Kvikhlan dropped his gaze, obviously ashamed. Then, Narbog did something that surprised everyone, including Kvikhlan himself: He said, "It was my fault, Firesword. I provoked Kvikhlan into attacking me, although unintentionally."

Constantly full of surprises, that Urgal was.

Eragon, with a strange light in his eye, nodded. "Kvikhlan, this is the third time in the past month that you and Narbog have had to be pulled out of a fight. I know that it is hard to accept, but the Urgals are not your enemy, nor the enemy of anyone in Alagaësia…"

Lisa didn't stay to hear the rest. Instead she retreated to the door and walked through, casting about for the familiar presence of her dragon. She found her, and quickly Evarínya told her that she would be waiting on the flight deck. Navigating her way there, she found her licking her scales clean. Lisa smiled. Sometimes Evarínya could be a little overly clean, but it was understandable, as any small amount of dirt would show up on her white scale background.

_How did it go? _Evarínya asked.

_Well, they didn't kill each other,_ she replied. Evarínya chuckled in her growling way.

_Are you ready? _Lisa asked.

_As always. While I need to clean them, the task of cleaning my scales is a bit… mundane._ Evarínya stood up and prepared for the flight ahead, opening her wings and stretching her legs.

Lisa stepped up to Evarínya's saddle and climbed on. Strapping herself in, she told Evarínya _I'm ready._

With a roar, Evarínya leapt into the air and took flight, pumping her wings in order to gain altitude. Within a few seconds they soared above the clouds, the beautiful landscape of the island about them. Still Evarínya flapped her wings, and when she was level with the tip of the mountain, she stopped flapping and allowed the wind to guide her downwards, towards the center of the mountain. Several minutes passed as the mountain loomed over them. Evarínya skillfully maneuvered them towards a small cave that they had found while on a flight drill.

Once they had landed, Lisa hopped off Evarínya and walked to the opposite end of the cave. Lighting the lantern, she lied down on the large hammock she had made. The cave was small and unfurnished (except for the hammock), and yet it was enough for Evarínya and Lisa to feel comfortable. Lisa closed her eyes, letting her mind wander.

She had arrived at the island cold, wet, and hungry. The voyage from Alagaësia hadn't exactly been one of comfort. But, then again, nothing ever was, in Lisa's case. As the island had come into view she began fiddling with her sword, nervous as to what the other, more experienced Riders would think, but Evarínya had comforted her, saying, _It matters not what they think, only what we learn._ Knowing she was right, Lisa soon quieted her fears as the boat sailed into the harbor.

Eragon and Saphira stood there, along with Kvikhlan and Felkthar, Narbog and his light red dragon, Zhâda (Urgal for 'Doom'), and Alden, along with his golden dragon, Kuldar Solus (Elven for Golden Sun). They had welcomed her, and she fit right in, but still felt a little shy, considering the fact that she was entirely new to being a rider.

As her mind wandered, she examined what she knew of each one of her companions.

Kvikhlan was a bit tall for a dwarf- almost four and a half feet- with stocky legs and a short beard, his hair dark brown in color. Lisa never liked Kvikhlan, as he always seemed (as proven earlier that day) overly ready to fight anyone and anything. But she knew that that wasn't necessarily the way of his entire race. Because of their differences, Lisa never cared to find out much about Kvikhlan, but had heard from others that he had a hard childhood. His mother had been killed in an Urgal raid when he was young, and his father had had a problem with mead since then, and had beat him.

Narbog was one of the two more likeable new Riders. He was an Urgal, of course, so at first Lisa had had reservations about him, but then she found that he wasn't like the other Urgals, more friendly and less concerned about battle and glory. Lisa knew he had fought in the Rider war, but only at the last battle, as he had only recently before that proved himself. His dragon had been the first one to hatch since Fírnen, Queen Arya's dragon.

Then there was Alden. _Alden._ A little taller than she was, Alden was kind and gentle, with his beach blond hair and bright blue eyes. He had approached her when she had been assigned her rooms sand introduced herself. Seemingly a little nervous, he said, "Eragon-Elbrithil asked me to show you around the fort, if you are rested enough."

Lisa had smiled and said, "Of course." Alden had been the kindest of all the pupils, and also became her first friend.

Lisa reached behind her and drew her sword, holding it above her and studying it. She marveled at how light and balanced it felt, and, still lying on the hammock, swung it over her head. It cut smoothly through the air and, curiously, rung with a sweet, high pitched tune.

Then suddenly, from across the cave came the sound of a dragon landing. Lisa waited for a few moments, and then watched as Alden, along with Kuldar Solus, walked into the cave.

"Hey," Alden said to Lisa. Lisa waved a hand in response. _Hello Kuldar,_ Lisa and Evarínya said mentally.

_Hello, Lisa, Evarínya. _His voice was deep, and had a musical tone to it.

Alden walked over to the hammock and, after Lisa scooted over, lied down on it. He folded his hands behind his head, closed his eyes, and gently rocked the hammock from side to side. Lisa slowly turned her head and studied Alden's face; his nose, mouth, jawbone, ears.

Suddenly, so suddenly that Lisa quickly turned her head and blushed a small amount, Alden said, "Thank you, by the way."

Grateful that Alden kept his eyes closed, she said, "For what?"

"For helping me with Kvikhlan. He would have run Narbog through with his sword had you not intervened with magic."

Lisa blushed a little more. "It was nothing. Felkthar joined my mind and supplied the energy, so I didn't really do much."

Alden smiled a little. "Don't be so modest. _You_ intervened, not Felkthar."

"Well, you're welcome then." Lisa smiled back.

They sat there for a few moments. "You did well against Kvikhlan this morning," Alden said.

She shrugged, and a hint of pride crept into her voice as she said, "Well, Kvikhlan is a good swordsman. It was a good fight."

Alden nodded, and said, "Sometimes he doesn't control himself though, which causes him to lose. It's understandable though, considering his past." They sat silent for a few moments.

"Eragon gave me this," she said, a bit eager to show it off to Alden. She handed it to him and he took it. It took him few moments for him to recognize which sword it was, but when he did, amazement crossed his face.

"Well, now we know he the teacher's favorite is," Alden said sarcastically. Lisa laughed and playfully punched Alden in the arm. He smiled and handed it back to Lisa. Then, off in the distance, a horn sounded, along with the roar of a dragon.

"Flight practice time. We'd better go," Alden said.

"Yeah, you're right," she said, trying not to let the disappointment creep into her voice.

As she got up to leave, her arm brushed up against his, and it felt as if her face had been set on fire. She looked over at Alden, staring for but a moment into Alden's deep blue eyes, then quickly got up, walked over to Evarínya and practically threw herself into the saddle, not bothering to tighten the leg straps as she told her, _Quick! Fly!_

As Lisa flew away from the cave on Evarínya's back, her heart raced faster than it ever had before.

**ACCOMPLISHMENT! ALMOST 2000 WORDS! YES!**

**Well, hope you enjoyed this chapter! I agonized over the details, needing to get Lisa's personality just right. Any suggestions? Criticisms? Praise? Put it in the reviews!**


	5. Final Sleep

**Hey Guys!**

**I know what you're going to say- WHATS WITH THE WEEKS WITHOUT AN UPDATE?! WEVE BEEN LEFT HANGING ON THE EDGE OF OUR SEATS? WHAT'S WITH THAT?**

**My apologies. I've been extremely busy, but I'm back now! So let's get started! I figure since I've had about three chapters from Eragon-land, I should put another perspective in here, so here we go!**

**(Side note: HopelessRomantic: hmmm perhaps you're right… I've never really written a fic with a romance-type-spin before… thanks for that I'll be a bit more careful in the future. However, I figure that it was kind of ok because we only know that ****_Lisa_**** has these feelings… but overall you're correct. Thanks! And thanks to everyone else's awesome reviews!)**

**((Side side note: Ky111: sir, you have the abilities of a foreseer! In your last review you alluded to something that actually happens in this chapter! Good work.))**

Nasuada sat in her high backed chair, straining to keep an air of seriousness after the hours of listening to her financial advisers tell her about how to correctly invest and such nonsense. So when a page rushed in and announced that the only survivor of the latest wagon raid was coming, she straightened herself, brushed the wrinkles out of her dress, and did her best to put on her brightest smile, as hard as it was for her to do after such a long day.

A few minutes pass by, and then the doors open, and in walked the farmer… or that's what she assumed he was, as he was covered with dirt, burned in several spots on his body, and was in such tattered rags that he was almost unrecognizable. He shuffled in, and, having obviously been running for a long time, stumbled and fell to his knees.

Nasuada, feeling pitiful for this poor man, nodded to the magician on her left, who then hurriedly walked over to the man and began saying words in the ancient language when the man screamed.

"NO! Shut up! GET OUT OF MY HEAD! AAAAAAGH!"

The magician backed away. Nasuada, feeling perplexed, got up from her seat and walked over to the poor man on his back, who was now sobbing. "Just… Leave me alone… stop it…"

Nasuada knelt next to the man. "It's okay. We are your friends. No one will hurt you. What happened?"

The man looked up at her and shuddered. "The caught us in the plains… fire from nowhere… arrows of death… hide… hide under the tree…he came close… one of the raiders..." he shuddered again. "He said… he said…as he walked away…. 'Tyna…Gildi… Andlát…. Slytha…tun… Myrkr'…" The man shuddered once again, and then he sighed, a deep, long sigh, and then passed from their world.

Nasuada stood up, a bit shaken, as a man had just died before her very eyes… she had watched his life slip out of him…

Slowly she turned to her magician and said, "I shall be in my chambers." And with that, she receded from the throne room.

Nasuada sat before her mirror in her room as she and Eragon held their weekly meetings on the progress of both the kingdom and his pupils. Eragon told of how his dwarf student, Kvikhlan, and his Urgal student, Narbog, had a skirmish, and how his students were very promising. Nasuada was confused at first as to why he gave one of his students the sword of Eragon, but got no explanation other than, "gut feeling."

Nasuada's eyes began to droop, however, and there was still one other person she had to contact, so she bid Eragon goodnight, who then ended the spell, and she muttered the key words Eragon had made for the magical mirror, and soon Arya's face appeared before hers.

"Nasuada," Arya said.

"Arya," Nasuada replied. "How is Du Weldenvarden?"

"It goes well. The elves have recently had another elf child."

Nasuada was shocked. "Really? What has he been named?"

Arya said with a slight smile, "Wilae, meaning, 'will.' And something else happened. The dragon egg hatched."

Nasuada leaned forward a little out of excitement. "For who?"

Arya grinned, which she rarely did. "Guess." Being playful was also something that rarely happened.

Nasuada gasped. "Not the elf child! What name has he chosen for himself?"

"Ah, but it is a she. And she named her self Vinr, meaning 'friend.'"

Nasuada thought for a moment. "Are not Elf children born with great grace and power? How great, then, that a dragon has chosen one as her rider!"

Arya smiled once again. "Yes, this is true." Then her face grew serious, and she asked, "Nasuada… has Eragon asked of me lately?"

Nasuada chuckled. "Why of course! What else would he ask of?"

Arya brightened at that. "I must go-"

"Wait," Nasuada said. "We recently have had some attacks on wagon trains, where all the horses were slaughtered, the wagons burned, and no farmers escaped alive. However, recently one did, and before dying, he told me that one of the raiders had said something in the ancient language... I Believe it was, 'Tyna gildi andlát, slytha tun myrkr.' Do you know what that means?"

Arya froze. "Are you sure that is what he said?"

Nasuada nodded. "Yes, I'm certain. Why?"

Arya hesitated. The, slowly, she said, "It means, 'forget the fear of death, sleep in the darkness.' But it can't…."

Nasuada shuddered. "What?"

Arya looked Nasuada directly in her eyes. "The words hold no magic, or at least, they would do nothing but put the person they were directed at to sleep; however, that isn't the case. The problem is… the problem is that that is a saying that is often used by those not of the sanest mind and body… You say you've been having problems with bandit raids? Well, you've found they're leader. We have quite the problem on our hands now."

Nasuada was confused. "Why? What are a few rogue magicians going to damage?"

Arya's face grew even more serious. "Listen closely Nasuada. Long ago, after the death of Eragon and Bid'Daum, there was a man who watched as his own family was murdered in front of him. The man, wanting revenge for what happened, summoned powerful spirits in order to take revenge on his family's murderers. Once he had finished them, the man tried to release the spirits so that he could die, but the spirits instead took over his body, and he became known as Devnag, one of the most terrifying shades of our age. Soon after that he wandered around, and killing many brave warriors. Soon after, though, he was killed, and the spirits that held his body were released."

"But what does this have to do with our current situation?" Nasuada said impatiently.

"Because that saying in the ancient language the bandit said? That was the exact same thing Devnag would say before he would take the life of another person. It's not just a few rogue magicians we're dealing with; it's a band of rogue magicians with the Shade, Devnag as their leader."

**Hope you enjoyed it! Glad you guys have stuck with me through this dry spot. Sorry it's kind of a short chapter, but I wrote this on an empty mind; not my best work. Glad you made it through the horrible dialogue XD Review please! Let me know about any mistakes, suggestions, or just overall thoughts! Cya Next time!**


	6. Note on the Previous Chapter

**Hey guys, not sure if I'm supposed to do this or not, but it appears I've made a mistake. Apparently, I accidentally left out a paragraph from my last chapter. I reentered the paragraph, and this is just a note to let you know that you have to go back and read that chapter in order to get a better understanding of the chapter. Thanks, and here's a riddle! (hint: fans of books about little people going on adventures will get this right away :D)**

_This thing all things devours:_  
_Birds, beasts, trees, flowers;_  
_Gnaws iron, bites steel;_  
_Grinds hard stones to meal;_  
_Slays king, ruins town,_  
_And beats high mountain down._


	7. Words of War

**Well, I have to admit, I'm sort of out of ideas. Not completely, but for this chapter I was, until I thought up an idea for the next part of the book. So enjoy!**

**(Ky111: Ah, once again with the foreseer abilities! Worry not, they're here (though not in this chapter))**

**(Hopeless Romantic: You'll like this chapter :D)**

"Wait. How is that possible? Devnag was killed. How can he come back?" Nasuada said in confusion.

Arya paused for a moment. "You know what spirits are correct?

Nasuada nodded. "Yes, they are other beings that sorcerers can summon. But they're killed when their host is, aren't they?"

"No. When a sorcerer summons spirits that are too powerful for him to control, they take over their body, but then find that they are trapped within that very body. In essence, both the host and the sorcerer are prisoners. However, when the host is killed, the spirits are set free. We know this because when Eragon slew Durza and I slew Varaug, the spirits held captive were released from their prison."

Nasuada sat back, processing all the information. "So some fool summoned powerful spirits, and some- or all- of them were previously in control of the body of Devnag."

Arya nodded. "Yes. It is an occurrence that has never happened in the history of Alagaësia, and yet so it is. One thing is for sure; this cannot be allowed to continue. I suggest that you-"

At that, the doors to Nasuada's chambers burst open, and in came Jörmundur.

Nasuada stood up abruptly. "What is the meaning of this? I'm in the middle of-"

"Forgive me, my lady," Jörmundur said, out of breath, "but there was just another raid, and this time, another survivor… but he has a message…"

At this Nasuada hurriedly told Arya goodbye and rushed out of the room.

Nasuada sat in her chair, waiting for, at any moment, another poor man to stumble into her chambers.

She was wrong.

Instead of a poor man who could barely stand, in walked a man standing tall, although visibly burned and scarred, and something was off about him, as if he feared not one of the four guards in the room. He strode forth, and stood only a few meters from where Nasuada sat. He surveyed the room, and seeming dissatisfied with what he found, he sat cross-legged on the ground, as if waiting.

Nasuada, uneasily, cleared her throat, stood, and said, "Welcome to Ilirea. I know that you must have gone through a great ordeal, but-"

"Silence your meaningless babble," the man said. "I have not come for idle conversation, but to deliver a message from those-whom-you-fear, and rightly so."

Nasuada sat, shocked into silence. Her guards began to move forward, but Nasuada shook her head at them, and they obeyed, but still stood, weapons drawn, ready to jump in if needed.

"There, that is much better," The man said, with a smile on his face.

Nasuada hesitated, and then, haltingly, said, "Well, you have our attention. So what is this mention, and who sends it? Is it Devnag, who we have learned leads the band of magicians that is raiding our supply line?"

The man tilted his head, as if thinking, and then said, "Ah yes, Devnag. One of us was called this long ago."

Nasuada started. One of _us? How can this be? He says one of us, and yet he is not a Shade-_

"But no more need we talk of this," the man said, smiling again in his unnerving way. "The message is a simple one, but should be fairly difficult for the likes of you."

Nasuada did not like being called 'the likes of you,' but she allowed the man to continue, as she was becoming worried about his hostile manner.

"The message is this:

_Our number is many,_

_You've faced some of us before._

_Now listen to me closely,_

_And you will find the open door._

_One is the man you name,_

_Although there are many more,_

_And so we are Varaug and Durza,_

_And the one who died on the shore._

_You cannot win this war,_

_ For a war it surely is._

The man sat there for a moment more. Nasuada's thoughts were racing. _Varaug and Durza? It cannot be…_

Then the man stood. "I'm afraid I must be going. But know this: do not underestimate us. You cannot win. You are welcome to try, but you will only be crushed beneath our feet."

Then something happened that Nasuada did not expect: the man opened his mouth and shouted, "LOSNA!" and fell to the ground, sobbing. Quickly the guards rushed over and hauled him to his feet. The man continued to sob, and Nasuada walked over to him. He looked up into Nasuada's face, and to her it seemed as if something had been drained from him.

She looked to her guards and said, "Put him in one of our luxury rooms. I'm not sure what happened here, but of one thing am I sure: this man was not of sane mind."

The guards dragged him away, leaving Nasuada to ponder the mystery of his words- or whoever's they were.

Once more, Nasuada sat before Arya. After relating the details of her encounter, she sat back and sighed, mentally taxed from the activities of the day. Arya, however, appeared alert, and, for the first time Nasuada had ever seen her, confused.

"Well? What does it all mean? We know about Devnag, Varaug, and Durza, but the man who died on the shore? Who-"

"It's another Shade," Arya said. "His name was Jertag, and he was also greatly feared. So let's examine what we know. There is a band of magicians who is led by a Shade. That Shade also contains spirits from four other Shades, and that shade has also learned how to take over the mind of another-and from what you've told me, that is what happened- as Galbatorix did long ago. Things are clearly looking bad, Nasuada."

Nasuada moaned. "I know, I know. What can we do?"

Arya thought for a moment. "We could call Eragon and the other Rider's, but this is not a big enough problem for a few weeks journey. Fírnen and I could attack this Shade, but alone, it's not certain we would come back. I could take Wilae and Vinr with me, but they are not ready for such a thing. Seeing that we have no other options, and we have one last option right up north, we must-"

"Yes, I know," Nasuada said. "We must find Murtagh and Thorn."

**OOOH SHOCKER! (not :D) Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Send in any reviews with suggestions and overall thoughts. Thanks!**


	8. Possession

**Alright guys, had some trouble writing Murtagh and Thorn, but went back and read the works of two of my favorite authors (Brian Jacques' Redwall Series and HopelessRomantic1470's FanFictions :D) and now I'm confident I can do this, so let's get rolling!**

The woods were quiet. Not a single thrush or sparrow whistled its sweet tunes. No deer dared graze in the forest's tranquil light. No hare's or squirrels sneaked a peek from their hide outs.

No, none would dare do so while a dragon flew above their heads.

Murtagh watched as the ground below passed quickly underneath him, too preoccupied to notice as Thorn pulled upwards into a backwards corkscrew, which almost cost him his eye as his head barely missed one of his dragon's neck spikes. Normally he would have been more cautious, but a recurring dream kept his mind busy. Thorn's mind pulled against his, trying to draw his consciousness into his own, but Murtagh fended him off and told him, _Land please. I need to think the dream over again._

_As you wish_, Thorn replied. Automatically Murtagh felt Thorn make the necessary adjustment of his wings and began drifting down towards the earth.

The last five years had been strenuous with no other human-like beings to talk to. Murtagh loved Thorn as his brother, but still sometimes they needed to talk to others of their kind, which, sadly, was not a luxury that they were allowed. But they managed.

Thorn hit the ground running, slowly skidding to a stop beside their campsite. Murtagh slowly unbuckled the straps that held him in the saddle. Once he accomplished this, he slid down Thorn's side, walked over to his bedroll, and lied down. Closing his eyes and slowing his breathing, he waited for the soft and reassuring embrace of sleep to envelop him as Thorn protectively over him a few meters away.

Suddenly the darkness of his eyelids was slowly replaced by a bright scene…

_In which Murtagh ran though a forest at inhumanly fast speeds, the tress all blending together into a blur of green and brown. Murtagh laughed at the impossibility of it all, and yet wished he could attain such feats._

_Suddenly Murtagh ground to a halt in a clearing. In front of him was an impossibly tall mountain, which seemed vaguely familiar, and yet the name of the mountain Murtagh could not remember._

_Into the side of the mountain was carved a doorway, over which were written words which Murtagh could not understand, as they were written in a foreign language. Suddenly Murtagh felt some un-human force driving- no, pulling him towards the doorway. He pulled against it, yet his efforts were in vain, and he was sucked through the doorway and down a seemingly never ending passageway that lead down, down, and down further into the earth._

_When his journey ended, he found himself in a tomb lit by torches. Above the place where the decrepit body lied, he read the words, Here lies the greatest man of men who ended as something that was not a man of men. What the inscription meant, he did not know, and yet there was something about it that set a deep chill in his spine._

_And suddenly he heard laughter behind him. Whirling around, he stared into the pale face under the mat of maroon colored hair that he felt certain meant three things._

_The first one was the existence of a shade._

_The second one was danger._

_The third one was death._  
* * *

Murtagh burst from the confines of sleep covered in sweat. Shaking of both his drowsiness and his dread, he sat up and turned to thorn.

_I still don't understand_, He communicated to Thorn.

_There are many things that I do not understand in this world; like the coming and going of my usage of magic, or why the moon always chases the sun. But above all others, the thing I understand the least is the mind of men. Do not let this dream trouble you. While unlikely, it could mean nothing._

_I know. And yet it seems to mean so much more than just a common dream. As if I'm actually seeing events, however unlikely they are. It's feels as if I've seen them before, and I know they will happen; like a premonition._

_And yet until such things happen, we cannot do anything about them. Don't worry; everything will sort itself out in the end._

Murtagh nodded, although he was still filled with dread. Trying to relax himself, he closed his eyes and opened his mind, touching every consciousness close to him and grasping on to it, as if he were worried that he would soon float away from the Earth. HE stretched his consciousness as far as it would go and held the distance, listening to the thoughts of all the insects and animals around him.

Suddenly Murtagh felt a presence that was not one of these. It had great defenses, and Murtagh felt as if he would expend all his energy if he tried to breach the diamond-hard defenses that surrounded that consciousness. It was human, though. Of this much he was sure.

He opened his eyes. Approaching him was a man that was so badly burned and cut that if Murtagh had not known previously that the man was human, he would have not have even been able to tell what sort of being he was. It seemed impossible that anyone could even walk after sustaining such injuries, and yet the man strode forth confidently. In his hands he carried a small, ornately carved box.

Murtagh drew his sword, Zar'roc, as the man stopped a few meters before him. Setting the box down, the man said loudly, "The box is for you." At that the man slowly stepped a few meters back, and stood, as if waiting, for a good half minute or so, before shouting, "BRISINGR!" and set himself on fire. Shortly thereafter he then shouted. "LOSNA!"

Murtagh averted his eyes as the man began screaming. Finding the mans consciousness, he quickly shouted one of the seven words of death, and the man's suffering ended.

Walking forward, Murtagh picked up the box. _What just happened?_

_I'm not sure_, Thorn replied, _but I think it's safe to open the box._

_If you say so_, Murtagh said. Opening the box, he found a scrap of parchment with a single paragraph written on it.

The first is the first of the first of the first.  
The second is the fourth of the fifth of the second.  
The third is the fifth of the second of the third.  
The fourth first of the seventh of the fourth.  
The fifth is the third of the fifth of the fifth.  
The sixth is the first of the third of the sixth.  
The seventh is the first of the fifth of the seventh.  
The eighth is the fourth of the fifth of the eighth.  
The final is the first of the eighth of the ninth.  
Replace with these with their own numbers,  
And surely you will find the open door.  
Letter, Letter, Word, Line

Murtagh read the paragraph a second, and then a third time, but still he was just as confused as before. Turning to Thorn, he said, _Do you understand any of that?_

_It seems as if this is only the second half of a puzzle, but perhaps with time we will find the answ-_

Murtagh suddenly felt another two presences close by, approaching fast. This would be fine, except for one problem.

The beings were above them.  
**-**  
**Ok, I finally finished this chapter! Please review. It would be great to hear from you guys how I'm doing, what I'm doing right and wrong, or any suggestions or just overall feelings. Until Next time!**


	9. Flight

**Alright, here's my next chapter!**

**I apologize for taking a while on this one. I was away for a while, and then I wasn't sure as to how to write Fírnen's character (He was mentioned less than Thorn (Why are my problems always with dragons?)) But I reread the part where he and Saphira meet, and I think I've got it down. **

**(By the Way, a recurring theme in some of your guys' review is, "How is this not a big enough issue to tell Eragon?!" I figured that I might as well explain it. You see, coming back to Alagaësia entitles a few ****_weeks_**** journey. On top of that, there is always the danger of the Nidwhal rising from the depths, and also there are now ****_three_**** dragons and riders in Alagaësia. That's why it was deemed unnecessary to bring Eragon out, however he was informed.)**

**So, here we go!**

Arya struggled to keep her eyes open as Fírnen winged over the massive expanse of air where Arya was certain that Murtagh was in. Murtagh and Thorn had headed north; this _was_ the north. She and Fírnen had flown over the frozen tundra for at least a full day with no sleep, and yet still they flew. Even though they were both tired, they continued. While an elf queen rider and an elf child were a force to be reckoned with, they would need all the help they could get against this new threat.

Arya had never known Murtagh too well, so she wasn't exactly sure what to expect of him; however, this didn't matter. All that did matter was that he was one of the only people that could help them now, with Eragon being several weeks out to sea.

_I feel as if this all looks familiar, _Arya said to Fírnen.

_Perhaps we have flown this stretch before, perhaps we have not. Everything here looks the same. I do not know… _Fírnen replied.

Arya began to let her thoughts wander as she half watched the landscape pass by. Her thoughts turned to the threat that now faced Alagaësia, the shade that had spirits from four others. Would this make the shade stronger, or simply more cautious and scheming? Arya wasn't sure. But she did know that this was no enemy to underestimate. A shade never was.

Suddenly Arya's thought process was interrupted as Fírnen began slowing down.

Arya reached out to his consciousness. _Why have we slowed?_ She asked, but Fírnen did not answer, and Arya noticed that the beats of his wings were slowing, and so was the constant _Thud_ of his heart, which Arya felt through the saddle. Arya was confused until she suddenly realized that Fírnen had fallen asleep in midair.

This would have been amusing except for the fact that they were now falling.

The ground rushing up to meet them, Arya began prodding her dragon's consciousness. _Fírnen, _she said, a little too gently. Nothing happened. With more urgency, Arya again called to him. _Fírnen_! And yet he did not wake up. Finally Arya mentally shouted, _FÍRNEN!_ And stabbed out at his consciousness. Suddenly Fírnen woke from his slumber and noticed that they were falling.

Furiously beating his wings, he attempted to once again remove himself from the force of gravity, but seemingly to no avail. Finally, Arya felt them begin to gain height, and looked down.

They had stopped less than three meters from the ground.

Arya had had enough. _We'll stop here for the night. We can begin the search again tomorrow._ Fírnen did not argue. Landing in a small space of flat land atop a hill, he slowly drifted down to lightly land upon the hilltop. Arya slid down his side and almost buckled from fatigue as she hit the ground, and huddled close to Fírnen for warmth. Slowly her eyes began drooping closed, being pulled into the world of her waking dreams, and as she fell into them she watched as Fírnen curled up around her and slowly drew his wings over her, protecting her from the cold of the night.

Arya started awake as a scream rent the morning air. Fírnen was already awake and alert, and turned his neck to look at her. _That could be Murtagh._

_I know. Let's go, quickly! He may need our help._

Arya leaped up into the saddle and quickly buckled the straps around her legs as Fírnen began pounding his wings. Uncertain of what they would find, Arya drew her sword.

Murtagh might as well have leaped onto Thorn as the objects approached, but Thorn, suddenly had a thought. _Think, Murtagh. The Riders are no longer in Alagaësia, and yet one has appeared. There is only one person who that could be._

Murtagh suddenly calmed down. _Of course. It's Arya. I apologize for my outburst; I was remembering the days at Ilirea…_

_ Say no more. I remember as well._

Murtagh sat on the ground and waited as Arya and Fírnen appeared overhead and drifted down towards them. _What do you think they want us for?_ Thorn asked.

_Well, they would only come to us if they needed something, and us being who we are, it must be some sort of threat that they think a single elf rider can't handle._

Fírnen landed upon the snow, and Arya jumped off his saddle. She nodded to Murtagh and said, "Atra esterní ono thelduin."

Murtagh replied, "Mor'ranr lífa unin hjarta onr," And Thorn said so that all could hear, _Un du evarínya ono varda."_

Arya said, "We heard a scream and thought it might be you. What happened?"

Murtagh explained what had just happened. Afterwards, Arya said, "May I see the note?" Murtagh handed it to her, and as she read it, Thorn turned to Fírnen and said, _Ah, at last I meet the one who fortune favored, or rather, the one who hid in his egg like a hatchling until the war had been won. Tell me, have you ever even seen battle?_

Fírnen growled. _I did not hatch because I had not met the one who I was destined to be ridden by._

Thorn retorted, _Or so you thought. At least we fought in the war; you did nothing._

With an air of contempt for Thorn, Fírnen said, _At least I didn't fight for the wrong cause._

Thorn reared his head and roared, breathing fire into the night sky. _How DARE you! I was under the control of a madman, and you-_

Murtagh stabbed at Thorn's consciousness. _ENOUGH! There doesn't need to be any fighting. Why did you try and provoke him in the first place?!_

Thorn turned to him, his eyes alight with rage. _We wage war for _him, _and he _DARES-

_Because you dared to insult! Enough of this, leave him alone._

Thorn begrudgingly withdrew his consciousness from Murtagh's and stood there, anger seeping out of every crack in his consciousness.

Arya looked up from the paper she held. "There is trouble in Ilirea. Recently there have been a string of raids on supply carts. We thought it was nothing, until they began sending messengers. There is a new shade in Alagaësia, and it's in control of a band of raiders. But it is no ordinary Shade. It has the spirits of four other shades who have long since passed."

Murtagh sat, dumbfounded. "So you want me to help you with a rag-tag group of bandits?"

Arya calmly said, "Led by a Shade who holds the experience and strength of four others. He can even possess people from long distances, as Galbatorix once could. We need all the help we can get. Besides, both times Eragon and I killed a Shade, we had the help of the other to defeat him. We can't do this on our own."

Murtagh nodded. "If I do this, will I be able to come back to civilization? For good?"

Arya said nothing. "I'll have to ask Nasuada, but you could have stayed anyways, as Eragon told you. But this will most likely improve the people's idea of you. I can promise nothing."

Murtagh turned to Thorn. _Well? Shall we?_

_ I dislike the thought of flying with that _hatchling, _but we must go._

Murtagh turned to Arya. "We'll do it."

Instead of answering, Arya simply climbed into Fírnen's saddle, and said, "It's a long ride to Ilirea. We can't stop to rest. Are you ready?"

Murtagh nodded, and climbed onto Thorns back. "We are," Murtagh said.

_We are,_ Thorn said with him.

"Then let us go."

And with that they flew off. Murtagh was overjoyed. He was finally flying back to civilization to other people, and might even be accepted among them if all went well. Meaning he could stay with the one person he wanted to see most of all.

_Nasuada._


	10. Trial of the Island

**Ok guys, I guess I'm losing a bit of steam here, but I'm going to keep trudging on I'll probably start a new story at some point and keep going with both (my idea for the other story is epic :D) but for now I'm going to focus on this one as much as I can without losing focus on school. SO, here goes!**

Eragon was nervous. He paced the hallway, regardless of what the elves would think. He twiddled his thumbs, ran his hands through his hair, and watched every movement that he saw.

He always got nervous around the Trial of the Island.

Saphira, a now living giant, lay in the hallway next to his endless path that he walked. _Calm down. She'll be fine. There's nothing to-_

_There's everything to worry about! _Eragon threw his hands up in despair. _What if she's not ready? She's only had a year here. I know that's when they all have to pass the trial, and she's advanced as quick as can be expected, but what if something happens? Not only would I lose both a great pupil AND a dragon, but it would be possible that the sword of the most important and honored Dragon rider in history, _my namesake, _might be lost forever! What if she forgets to buckle her saddle belt under Evarínya, or falls on her sword, now wouldn't _that _be ironic…_

Saphira snorted. These were the usual questions that Eragon asked, however irrational and impossible they were. _And what if the sky opens up and comets fall and strike her off her dragon? Or if an earthquake releases a sea of flying Nidwhal?_

Eragon calmed down for a moment. _I know, I know. I'm being irrational. The trial isn't what's bothering me the most though. It's this new rebel group of magicians, and that shade. I'm just worried that something might happen to…_

Eragon simply gave her a look. He didn't need to tell Saphira for her to know who he was talking about. She was on his mind a lot.

Saphira gently thought, _I know, but she will be fine. Whoever attempted to try anything would need the very winds of earth to be on their side if they were to succeed in harming Arya._

Eragon sighed. _I know. I just wish there was something I could do to help her… but my students need me._

Saphira nodded. _So they do. Especially Lisa, know that the Trial of the Island is upon her. Try to focus on the task at hand. We must prepare ourselves for the Ceremony of Sending Out, and either her return… or her death._

Strangely enough, Lisa was the calm one of the two, but instead of nervousness, Evarínya was showing signs of one thing only- Pure, ecstatic joy.

_This is it! _Evarínya gave a small roar, which reverberated around their room like rolls of thunder. _We finally can prove ourselves! No more being treated as hatchlings! No more staying at the fort while the others go hunting! We made it! _She stamped the ground with her paw defiantly, as if challenging the very world around her.

Lisa tried to focus on packing and getting ready for the trial, but it was difficult with Evarínya's constant joy rushing across their connection. She was slightly nervous, but mostly focused on the task ahead. While she packed, she reviewed all that she could remember about navigation, swordsmanship, flight maneuvers, and everything else. Then she turned her attention to her sword, Fyrstr. With caution she gently polished its hilt, pommel, blade, and crosstrees, polishing it so bright that it almost hurt to look at it. Then she polished her armor and her shield, and finally strung and tested her bow.

She would need everything she owned for the task ahead.

Suddenly, as if from the very depths of earth, a deep, ominous, rumbling blow sounded from Hrothgar's Horn, a gift from the dwarves, carved from a monster of stone, and inlaid with jewels patterned to a likeness of Saphira.

Lisa pushed open the door to the flight deck, and, followed by Evarínya, who held her head high, walked slowly into the midst of the crowd. It was made up of the elves who came with Eragon, but the majority of it was made up of the Eldunarí. Hundreds of them sat on wooden pedestals, and they lined the flight deck. Together they formed a path to the end of the flight deck, where Eragon sat on top of a half pyramid, with Eldunarí surrounding him on the pyramid and Saphira towering above it, and at the bottom sat the other three Rider students and their dragons. Alden nodded at her, and she nodded back, but kept walking, focused on making it to the pyramid without Evarínya running her down to get there. As she finally rested to a stop before it, with Evarínya's head looming above her, Eragon stood. For the benefit of everyone listening, he spoke both with his mind and his mouth.

"Lisa Larasdaughter, And Evarínya Verdasdaughter. The time has come for you to be tested."

Lisa glanced up at Evarínya. Still as ecstatic as ever.

"You will be sent from us into the wild of this Island, the place of your upbringing, to a series of challenges. Fail these, and you will not return. IF there are any who oppose this Sending, speak now."

Lisa glanced at Kvikhlan. She wondered if he was still sore about her preventing him from killing Narbog. She expected him to speak, but he held his silence.

_He thinks we will fail, _Lisa thought.

Evarínya growled lightly. _Let us prove him wrong._ Lisa nodded.

Then the elves began chanting in the Ancient Language, and Lisa, taking her clue, climbed onto Evarínya's saddle and strapped herself in.

Eragon said loudly, "Do you accept these challenges?"

Lisa and Evarínya both said, _We do._

Eragon nodded. "Are we agreed that Lisa Larasdaughter and Evarínya Verdasdaughter are ready for this challenge?"

Everyone present said, _We are_, making it feel as if the very ground shook due to the force of their proclamation.

Eragon lifted his arms and said, "Then let it begin."

All the dragons lifted their heads and roared, then dipped them slightly and shot huge flames of fire into the night. Suddenly, by a work of magic, the pyramid split, exposing the night behind it.

Evarínya threw herself forward, and just before it seemed as if they would run off the edge of the deck, she jumped, and thrust her wings downward, propelling them forward.

Lisa reached out into her hand and waited. Suddenly, the map outlining where her challenges were on the island appeared, and she clutched it tightly. Opening it, she saw that their first challenge was on the top of the mountain, Mount Brisingr. Letting Evarínya know, she leaned forward in anticipation, letting all her held back enthusiasm rush forward.

The Trial of the Island was underway.

**Ok, so perhaps Eragon freaking out was a bit unrealistic, but I felt it made the story better. Thanks for reading, and hit that review button for me! It makes my day :D**


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